


Looking sharp

by vivianblakesunrisebay



Series: Patrick Brewer hours [2]
Category: Schitt's Creek
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2019-12-07
Updated: 2019-12-07
Packaged: 2021-02-26 06:48:03
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 700
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/21699496
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/vivianblakesunrisebay/pseuds/vivianblakesunrisebay
Summary: It's grad night. Patrick gets a haircut before his date with David.
Relationships: Patrick Brewer/David Rose
Series: Patrick Brewer hours [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/1564135
Comments: 56
Kudos: 268





	Looking sharp

**Author's Note:**

> This is a deleted scene from my Patrick POV fic, [Happy to Help](https://archiveofourown.org/works/21107588/chapters/50224769). I cut it for pacing reasons, but I liked it, so I thought I might as well post it!

When Patrick came out of the office supply store in Elmdale, frame in hand, he spotted a barbershop across the parking lot. “Walk-ins welcome” flashed in the window. He checked the time on his phone. He should just have time before he needed to get back to Schitt's Creek for his date with David.

A few minutes later, he was sitting in the barber’s chair. The barber was a big man, very tall, with glasses and a bushy grey mustache.

“Not much to cut here,” the barber said, gesturing to Patrick’s head. “Unless you want me to shave off?” He had a slight accent, eastern European of some kind.

“No, no,” Patrick said quickly. He imagined himself with a shaved head. God. He’d look like a cue ball. “Just a trim. I, uh, have a date tonight.”

“Ahhh, a date,” the man said. His manner became expansive and genial. “Not to worry. I give you a nice little trim. Get you looking sharp.”

He picked up his scissors. “This is first date?”

“Yes,” Patrick said. The man’s thick, blunt fingers were soothing on his head.

“So where you take her? Dinner?”

“Dinner, yes,” Patrick said. Then he took a breath and said, “I’m taking _him_ to dinner. It’s his birthday.”

The barber’s hands stilled on his head, then resumed. “Birthday dinner? For first date? You are brave man.”

Patrick laughed. He felt brave. His heart was thumping. He wasn’t sure why he’d corrected the man. It was just—he was excited for this date, like he’d never been excited to take Rachel out, or any of the other girls he’d dated. And thinking of this barber with a picture in his head like one of those old, boring dates just felt … wrong. Unbearably wrong.

He liked what he’d said, though. He felt good.

He realized something: coming out wasn’t something you did once and it was done. Coming out was something he would do all his life, to different people, all the time. It was a process. 

And, apparently, Patrick’s process included first coming out to a girl he’d just met at a party, and second to a barber who was cutting his hair.

There was no sound for a few minutes but the soft snick of the scissors. Then the barber said, “You get him gift?” 

“I did,” Patrick said. And then he found himself telling the barber all about the framed receipt. He explained about their business and how it had just opened, and how he'd saved the receipt from their first sale. He nodded at the bag at his feet. "I just bought a frame for it."

The man was nodding. “This is good gift,” he said.

Patrick said, “You don’t think I should get him something, I don’t know, more expensive?”

The man shook his head decisively. “Sentimental gift is always better. From the heart.” The man thumped his chest for emphasis. “I’ve been married thirty years, I know.”

It was silly, very silly, to feel reassured by this, but Patrick did. His shoulders relaxed. He hadn’t even realized how tense they were. He nodded. “Okay,” he said.

The man took out his electric razor. He was looking at Patrick keenly. “You like this boy,” he said. He tipped Patrick’s head forward.

“Yes,” Patrick whispered, as the barber put the electric razor against the back of his neck. The buzz traveled down Patrick’s spine. _Yes yes yes yesyesyesyesyes. I like this boy. So much._

The barber put down his razor and whipped off the poncho with a flourish.

“Twenty dollars,” he said.

Patrick took out his wallet. As he started to take out some bills, the man tapped him on the shoulder. Patrick looked up and met his eyes in the mirror.

“You look good, very sharp,” the man said. “You will sweep him off feet.”

Patrick nodded jerkily. Probably the guy was just trying to ensure he got a big tip, but Patrick felt pathetically grateful, ridiculously so, like this guy had some special insight or knowledge into how the date was going to go.

Anyway, it worked. Patrick did give him a big tip.

_You will sweep him off feet._

God, he hoped so.


End file.
